


Bare Your Throat for Winter's Teeth

by ebonpen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, POV Experimental, POV Second Person, The Falcon Sam Wilson, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonpen/pseuds/ebonpen
Summary: Dark. Powerful. Hungry.These are the words that come to mind when he looks at you. You can feel his gaze consume you whenever it flicks your way. He knows you notice. He wants you to.So what keeps you from him?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, winter/Falcon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29
Collections: winter falcon





	Bare Your Throat for Winter's Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> As it goes, I claim no ownership of the characters or universe in which they dwell. However, I will take responsibility for the wretchedness I do plan to put them through.  
> A short piece from a long time lurker and first-time poster. Something that had been spawned from dark music that fills the air around me when there is nothing else but silence. Marked as Mature because even though it isn't graphic in this first piece the coming others will not be so innocent.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy. There will be more in the coming future.

Dark. Powerful. _Hungry_.

These are the words that come to mind when he looks at you. You can feel his gaze consume you whenever it flicks your way. He knows you notice. He wants you to.

You feel his power whenever he moves as if each footfall sends the world quaking. He's a warrior. Stolen, broken, and rebuilt. You've witnessed his efficient brutality (and sometimes admired it)and the fear that once froze the blood in your veins has since warmed and gives way to a hunger of your own.

You're no stranger to what it takes to survive and you are certainly unafraid to defend your right to life.

_So what keeps you from him?_

He's a predator.

He's been stalking your steps from the first moment he's laid newly opened eyes on you. He's claimed your shadow and has laid down an unspoken law of who can come near.

This should anger you. This should appall you. The very gall of him! And yet...

Oh, there is a thrill there at knowing this claim. It's almost as if you can feel it on your skin.

It should be easy to evade him, this you know for certain. Yet you bring in your own wings just so you can stay close to the ground so that this beast can keep his attention solely on you. All he has to do is leap and he will have you in his teeth. 

Want stirs in you deeply. It keeps you awake at night. Your hand -- _the traitorous thing_ \-- guiding you into shameless pleasures. A part of you hopes his enhanced senses catch a whiff of your yearning, your eagerness. Hoping he will follow the scent and catch you in the filthy act of desire. You hope that when he does he then would render you blind to everything that isn't him. You'd gladly bare your throat just so he could sink his teeth into your skin. To physically mark the landscape in which he's claimed. And just as gladly you'd drink in his darkness.

Fear is what keeps you away. Keeps you grounded and keeps you from wholly going to him. A natural instinct when prey knows it's hunter is closing in. You know you'd be consumed, without guilt, without reservation, without _mercy_ until there was nothing left of what makes you...you.

But then... Would that be so bad? 

Your hands tremble and no matter how minute the movement or how well you think you keep it secret he catches it. For a breathless moment, you wonder if he can hear your quickened heartbeat.

He is watching you again, devouring you from across the room as if you are the only two there. Your friends, your comrades in arms against all that darkens the light of the world, become shadows as your own gaze focuses on him in return.

You meet his gaze doing your best to match it but the intensity of his yearning punches the air from your lungs and makes your heart pound.

You make your decision then and there.

You excuse yourself from your comrades under the guise of needing a little breather but you make sure to catch his attention again. You tilt your head just enough to show him your throat. The thrill that races through you when his eyes widen in surprise leaves you almost giddy but you sober quickly when those sharp eyes harden with precision. Hunger clouds them, turning them into a stormy force that makes you look away.

You leave the room, not to run but to lead. To let him chase you.

It doesn't take him long to catch up. 


End file.
